


After A Long Separation

by OddlyExquisite



Series: The Still Center [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Naked Jedi, Nightmares, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddlyExquisite/pseuds/OddlyExquisite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon is stubborn. Obi-Wan changes that.</p><p>(<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobalt_Djinn/pseuds/Cobalt_Djinn">Cobalt_Djinn's</a> magnificent artwork.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	After A Long Separation

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Many thanks to my magical Beta, Merry_Amelie: She who makes masterpieces out of grammatical errors!
> 
> 2) Enormous thanks to Cobalt_Djinn, who lent her tremendous talent and time to this beautiful artwork!
> 
> 3) Fic title comes from the poem "Everytime I Kiss You" by Nizar Qabbani:  
> "Everytime I kiss you  
> After a long separation  
> I feel  
> I am putting a hurried love letter  
> In a red mailbox"

* * *

** **

 

**Epilogue**

 

He does not remember much about the weeks that follow their return to Coruscant.

Everything had been a blur of panic and sleeplessness. It is hard to consciously recall anything except the image of Qui-Gon's body suspended in a bacta tank-- the sole thing Obi-Wan had looked at for days on end, snatching hours of sleep here and there only when Yoda came to the healing ward. He remembered Anakin sitting by his side, fellow Padawans and Masters visiting briefly and offering soft touches, afraid that any sound louder than low whispers would break him.   
  
And then, of course, there were the nightmares, but he remembered those. He remembered those vividly.

The healers had him see the counselor on staff. Master Tannen, a Mirialan with bright violet eyes, had not been gentle with him, but that was fine. Obi-Wan could not afford gentleness, not now. Eventually, Master Tannen had released him, reporting that there was nothing else he could do; Obi-Wan was dealing with the event healthily, which was more than anyone had expected. ("The Event" everyone called it. Voiced hesitantly, as if naming it would bring it back, give it a greater power than it had already taken. But Obi-Wan knew the truth of it, knew that each time he acknowledged it out loud he earned back a little of what he had lost that day. "When he  _died_ ," he'd correct the healers, eyes snapping with frustration, "Say it- he  _died_.")

"When Master Jinn awakens," the counselor had told him, "you must not strain yourself, Obi-Wan. Nurture your own well-being as much as you care for your former Master in the coming weeks. Ask for help. Be patient. Heal."

Obi-Wan had nodded, but would have settled just as willingly for a solid night's sleep and the chance to confront the Qui-Gon of his nightmares with questions he wasn't sure he would ever be able to articulate in the waking world...

When Qui-Gon wakes, he immediately demands to be released from the healing ward. Mace Windu himself comes down to the ward and attempts to talk some sense into the stubborn Jedi Master. Obi-Wan nods off in his chair while they talk, knowing how the conversation will end before it is over.

The next day, Qui-Gon is painstakingly making his way through the Temple, limping step by step towards their quarters. He looks pale and haggard, nearly out of breath by the time they reach the end of the hallway. His cloak hangs from his shoulders and rasps on the floor behind them. Obi-Wan grits his teeth and refrains from suggesting that Qui-Gon use a hoverchair. The look Qui-Gon had given him last time had nearly withered his tongue.

At the same time, Obi-Wan understands. He understands why Qui-Gon needs to do this, needs to prove that he is mobile and able and recovering. Still, allowing him to do so is painful.

They do not speak; not about Naboo, not about Anakin, not about the kiss.

They do not need words when the white-knuckled grip of Qui-Gon's hand on his has not loosened since the Jedi Master woke.

 

*********

 

_...slow drip of water in the distance, the occasional zap of electricity..._

_\- strangely numb and everything is clouded over but there is a weight on his chest, bent over the place where the red chrysanthemum blossomed-_

_...lifted and he sees the body then, sprawled rag-doll with a Padawan braid, motionless and still..._

Obi-Wan wakes with a start, heart pounding. Immediately he recognizes that the dream had not been his own, that this wild-disbelief-panicked-sobbing did not belong to him. 

He stands and stretches, carefully coaxing sleep-sluggish blood back into muscle. The carpeted floor is soft beneath his feet as he pads towards Qui-Gon's bedroom. Though he was knighted on Naboo and his Padawan tail cut, he still bears his braid, feels it brush against his shoulder blade with every step. He had staunchly refused to have it cut by anyone but his Master, and they had been understandably preoccupied as of late.

Obi-Wan hesitates a moment at his Master's bedroom door before pushing his way in. It had been three months since they left the healing ward, and in that time many of the barriers normally raised between two people, between Master and apprentice, had crumbled.

Qui-Gon had kept silent vigil during the nights that Obi-Wan's insomnia screamed in his ears, sipping tea and watching his former Padawan pace the common room. Obi-Wan had been there when his Master threw down his lightsaber, had been there to order Qui-Gon to his feet. "Again," Obi-Wan would say, hating that he had to be the one to do it, "Get up and try again, Master Jinn." They both knew what would happen if he didn't, and failure simply wasn't an option. 

The Jedi Master's room is quiet, filled with something sharp and soul-shaking, something that Obi-Wan has come to recognize as fear. He approaches the bed, not needing light to know the pale, set look of his former Master's face. Qui-Gon is facing away from him, curled towards the wall as if to hide from something.

Obi-Wan says nothing, only sits and waits. 

Qui-Gon uncurls slowly, rangy body flexing and rolling to face the newly made Knight. "It woke you again." It is not a question. "I'm sorry."

That was another thing, Obi-Wan reflected. Qui-Gon had barely addressed him by name since Naboo.

He reaches over and draws back the covers, slipping beneath them. Qui-Gon is watching him warily. Without a word, Obi-Wan pulls the shaken Jedi Master close and wraps his arms around him. He feels a shudder run through the older man's body as he sinks into the warmth and intimacy of the embrace. 

Obi-Wan brushes his fingers over silky hair. "You," he says softly, "are the most intractable man I have ever met." Qui-Gon flinches, but Obi-Wan holds him firmly, speaking quietly into his ear, "I know you sleep better when I'm beside you, so why don't you ever ask?"

"I would never ask this of you."

"Stubborn."

Qui-Gon sits up then, and Obi-Wan shakes his head at the bemusement he sees in the older man's face. 

"Don't you understand?" Obi-Wan asks gently, "Even if all you'll ever want from me is friendship, Qui-Gon Jinn, I'll be here. When the burden gets too heavy, I'm here to help you shoulder it. So  _let_ me."

Qui-Gon's intense gaze searches his face for a moment, challenging. Obi-Wan bears the scrutiny stoically, hardly registers the hum of an igniting lightsaber and the tug at his temple before his braid is lying in his former Master's palm.

He is stunned by the sudden loss.

"The Force..." Qui-Gon clears his throat, "The Force is within us, around us, making three as one: the Force, the Master, the Apprentice. I, Qui-Gon Jinn, Master of the Jedi Order, acknowledge your dedication to the Light and confer upon you the title of Knight. You are released from your Padawan vows."

Obi-Wan almost wants to laugh, to spread his arms and say, "See? I'm still here." But he doesn't, because although those same words had been said by Yoda months before, he feels for the first time a certainty about his title. 

Qui-Gon is staring at the tiny braid in bewilderment, as if he cannot believe what he has done. Obi-Wan places a hand on his mentor's knee.

"Ask me. Ask me what you couldn't ask before."

Slowly, as though it costs him great effort, the Jedi Master leans forward and rests his forehead against Obi-Wan's. "Please stay." Qui-Gon's eyes are tired. "I do not sleep well when you are not beside me." A nearly ritual request, as if Qui-Gon doesn't know any other way to ask it. 

Obi-Wan presses a chaste kiss to the Jedi Master's cheek. "You honor me with your asking. I will guard your sleep this night." A ritual reply.

An indeterminable amount of time later, when they are lying together in the dark, Qui-Gon shifts.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you loved me?"

Obi-Wan smiles and runs a hand down Qui-Gon's spine. "Since the beginning."

 

*********

 

The next morning, Qui-Gon finds him standing by the window, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He has just emerged from the shower, damp skin smelling like the herbal soap they both favor. Watching the outside world fly past his window has always soothed him; the constant motion of eternal traffic has fascinated him since childhood. 

Obi-Wan senses his mentor's presence even before he sees him; every part of him subtly attuned to the

_-deep-comfort, Force-still-center-_

feeling of the older man. Qui-Gon joins him at the window, and for a while the two men simply stand together and stare out the window. They are nearly meditational by the time the Jedi Master speaks. 

"I do love you."

"Ah, good. We're on the same page, then." His humor has taken a decidedly irreverent turn since Naboo.

"I am sorry for my...that I ever caused you pain."   
  
Obi-Wan hears the "but" at the end of the sentence and suppresses a sigh.

"But Obi-Wan..."

There it is.

"I am not sure I deserve-"

Making a split-second decision, Obi-Wan stands on tiptoe and silences the older man with a passionate kiss. It is ridiculously easy to fall into the sensation of warm lips against his own, of the hard-muscle-soft-soul body beneath his fingers. Qui-Gon sighs as Obi-Wan presses him into the wall by the window, reveling in the rightness of the feeling that is this lithe, warm body against his.

"You," Obi-Wan murmurs, breaking the kiss, "have never been anything but deserving." He gently nuzzles his way down Qui-Gon's neck, gratified by the small, needy noises the man is making. He captures Qui-Gon's lips in a slow, deep kiss, luxuriating in the desire that sizzles across the bond neither of them had thought to sever. By the time he is done, Qui-Gon is flushed and panting, eyes dark with arousal.

Obi-Wan has never seen anyone quite so beautiful.

"Padawan..." Something about Qui-Gon's voice makes him shiver, thoroughly aware of how painfully aroused he is from just a few kisses. 

The predatory gleam in his Master's eyes gives him half a moment's warning before their positions are reversed and Obi-Wan is pressed against the wall, breathless. A jolt of desire fizzles through his core as the towel around his waist is ripped away, leaving him bare. 

"Beautiful." Qui-Gon murmurs throatily, staring at Obi-Wan as if he were a starving man, "Force help me..." A large, callused hand captures his wrists and pins them above his head. Obi-Wan swallows hard, suddenly understanding the term "dizzy with anticipation", and then the Jedi Master is everywhere at once, lips and hands leaving trails of fiery heat wherever they go. Obi-Wan moans and arches his hips under the assault, unable to do anything but react. His thoughts are jumbled and incoherent, but he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he  _craves_ this.

"Ah...Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan mews when Qui-Gon thrusts against him with a low moan. He struggles against his lover's grip, wanting to get closer. The Jedi Master has somehow stepped out of his sleep pants and lifts Obi-Wan higher to meet the very obvious, insistent need echoed in Obi-Wan's body. Obi-Wan wraps his legs around Qui-Gon's hips and buries his hands in the long brown-grey hair. 

"Obi...Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon pants, straining for more contact with the warm body wrapped around his.

Nearly delirious with pleasure, Obi-Wan basks in the delicious knowledge that  _he_ is the one doing this to Qui-Gon.  _He_ is the reason for those moans, for aching need flowing across their bond, and the very thought sends Obi-Wan spiraling higher. He grips the Jedi Master's shoulders hard, reduced to breathless begging as his lover begins to thrust against him in earnest.

"Please, oh please, Qui-Gon..." He isn't going to last much longer if this keeps up; he's waited too long.

The Jedi Master leans in for a bruising kiss, pulling back to breath on Obi-Wan's lips.

"Come for me, love."

The command, uttered from the mouth of his Master, undoes him completely. Obi-Wan shouts as a furious explosion of white-hot desire-need-love swallows him, obliterating everything except the blinding pleasure of his release. Seconds later, Qui-Gon roars Obi-Wan's name and follows him over the edge, thrusting hard against his lover.

When Obi-Wan's awareness returns, he is lying on the floor, half on top of the insensate Jedi Master.

"Oh," Obi-Wan gasps weakly, "that was..."

"Wonderful," Qui-Gon finishes, pulling him closer. Obi-Wan cannot suppress a victorious grin at the sight of his lover, sweaty and spent, lazy from their lovemaking.  

"I love you, you know." He says, knowing perfectly well that he doesn't have to say it but wanting to say it anyway.

"I know." Qui-Gon practically glows with satisfaction.

They lie on the floor for a few more minutes, before:

"I imagine this has done wonders for the healing process."

Qui-Gon chuckles. "Master Tannen will be pleased."

Obi-Wan drowsily buries his face in the crook of the older man's neck. "He's not the only one."

Unnoticed by the sleepy pair in the Temple, the endless Coruscant traffic continues to float by. Outside, the morning sun grows brighter and bathes the room in warmth, illuminating the bowl of faded chrysanthemums on the breakfast table. Unseen by either of the Jedi, the delicate paper flowers seem to glow white.

*****

**Author's Note:**

> That's all, dear readers! All's well that ends well. 
> 
> Much love and many thanks,
> 
> O.E.


End file.
